Team of Detectives
by AglonAuthor
Summary: Two new people move to Baker Street. 221C to be specific. When they start popping up at crime scenes to help out Scotland Yard in their investigations, Sherlock finds the need to form a rivalry. And as does the other deducer. But eventually they must put their differences aside and work together on a certain case. A certain kidnapping…
1. Chapter 1

1: In Which They Have New Neighbours

**What'd ya know? She's posted another fanfiction!**

**I know, I know, I shouldn't be doing this, I have enough on my plate; but I needed to start this before season 3 came out!**

**Point in time: Post Reichenbach (will not follow series three timeline)**

**Warnings: None**

**Pairings: Eventual John/OC**

**Disclaimer: I own Sherlock *the internet explodes* Just kidding.**

A cab pulled over to the kerb and Sherlock and John both stepped out of the cab and began to walk up to 221B. Sherlock glanced around, noticing all of the boxes and the moving truck. "They're coming today?" wondered John aloud. "I thought they'd be here tomorrow."

"Who?" asked Sherlock. "We're getting neighbours," Sherlock deduced, "why didn't you tell me?"

John shrugged. "I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't let me get it out of my mouth. You wouldn't let Mrs. Hudson speak either. We tried to tell you."

"What, so you're saying it's my fault?"

"Yes, it is your fault."

They both stepped inside and saw two people talking to each other. They were both women, one in their mid twenties and the other in her mid thirties by the looks of it. The first woman had long brown hair and dark brown eyes that seemed to pierce the second woman's. She wore a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. She was the taller out of the two by about three or four inches Sherlock would guess. Probably three and a half. The second woman wasn't necessarily short, but the brown haired one was very tall.

The second woman had blonde hair and pale green eyes. She wore a pink and gray striped sweatshirt over a magenta t-shirt. She had brown trousers and red Converse. Her hair had been cut to a pixie cut but it had grown out a bit. Not quite chin length. Sherlock assumed it had been around a year since the original cut.

The first woman glanced up at them but ignored and turned back to the conversation. It seemed more like a heated argument really. The blonde girl noticed her friend look up so she turned around. She smiled kindly at John and Sherlock. "Hello," she greeted, putting out her hand. John shook it. "My name's Parker Viehof. My friend and I just moved into 221C." She offered her hand to Sherlock and he merely looked at it, an unamused expression on his face. John gave him a look and he accepted Parker's gesture with an eye roll. She cleared her throat and lowered her hand, feeling slightly awkward in the situation she had just been put in.

"Hi. Doctor John Watson." John gestured to Sherlock. "This is my flatmate, Sherlock Holmes."

"Really? I've heard a bit about you," said Parker, turning to Sherlock. "That serial suicide case that turned out to be murders? You solved that one, right?"

"Mm, yes," said Sherlock absentmindedly, trying to get away. "Well it's been a pleasure, but I must–"

"Sherlock," said John.

Sherlock humphed and stood where he was. Parker paused, looking over the duo. "This is my friend and flatmate, Shanna Iterro."

Parker gave Shanna a glance and she reluctantly stepped forward, only shaking John's hand after he offered it. "Army doctor, correct?"

John paused. "Uh, yeah. Do you read my blog?"

"Oh, you have a blog? That's nice. Not that I'll be reading it."

"Shanna!" said Parker in a voice that told her off for rudeness.

Shanna ignored. "Afghanistan or Iraq?"

"Er…Afghanistan. How–"

"The way you hold yourself and your hair cut indicates military. You have slight tanning on your wrists, but none under your sleeve. You've been abroad. It's faded a bit, so it's been a while. About a year and a half, probably two years, since you've fought in Afghanistan. Your a doctor, obviously, you greeted yourself as Doctor John Watson. Army Doctor. Need I a go on?"

"No, Shanna," said Parker, "I really don't think you need to go on."

"Well then. I'm going to the flat." She turned on her heel and strode into 221C.

Parker turned to the blogger and the detective after watching her friend leave. "I'm so sorry," she apologized. "Shanna just can't leave an opportunity to show off alone. I hope she didn't offend you or upset you."

"No, no," said John. "That's alright. I know someone quite similar…" He trailed off, turning to face Sherlock. Sherlock humphed. "It happens to me a lot."

"Me too. Shanna constantly does that to me. Especially when she's bored!"

"Same here. He can't let a single crumb on you sleeve go unnoticed."

"Exactly the same with Shanna!"

"Well," said Sherlock. "If you two are done talking about me like I'm not here, I'm going upstairs." He simply walked up the staircase to 221B and closed the door loudly behind him.

John and Parker exchanged glances. "So do you think there's a time where we could just…chat?" Parker asked.

"Maybe tomorrow," answered John. "That is, if Sherlock doesn't drag me onto another case or something along the lines of it."

Parker chuckled. "Well I'll see you soon Doctor Watson," she said, turning to leave.

"It's just John."

Parker stopped and smiled at him. "Well in that case, it's just Parker." She grinned genuinely and stepped into her flat.

**Thank you for reading!**

**Please review! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

2: Has Sherlock Met His Match?

**Happy birthday to me! :D Because it's my birthday I'm updating a lot of my fanfictions :D**

**Disclaimer: See ch. 1**

**Warnings: Mentions of blood (nothing new to the Sherlock fandom)**

**Noodle Fanatic - An OC, nothing more. Thanks! :)**

John put down his book and looked at his watch. Nearly ten. "Well," he announced, "I'm going to bed." He stood up, glancing at his flatmate who was lying on his back on the couch. His blue dressing gown was on and he merely stared up at the ceiling with his fingers steepled under his chin. He didn't even give a mumble in acknowledgement.

A text tone broke the silent air. Quicker than you could say: Case, Sherlock had dove at his phone and looked at the message. "Lestrade. He has a case." He jumped up and grabbed his jacket and scarf.

"I was about to go to–"

"Surely you can last without a few more hours of sleep. Come along, John!" he called back. John groaned and reluctantly followed.

-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-

Sherlock and John ducked under the police tape and walked onto the crime scene. They stepped into the kitchen and saw the victim lying on the ground, eyes wide and head split open, blood having pooled on the floor around him. 'Revenge' was written in large letters on the wall above him. The same word but in different languages were surrounding it. They weren't quite as large as the English word. "George Corlettee," said DI Lestrade, coming in from the dining room. "He was a Sargent at the Yard." He shook his head. "He was a good guy."

"But is he a good guy?" asked a voice from the doorway. Lestrade, John, and Sherlock turned to the person. It was Shanna. She now wore dark blue pants with a matching blazer. Her white shirt underneath and black shoes made her seem very businesslike. Parker was standing awkwardly next to her, as if not sure what to do in the situation. Shanna stepped into the room and began to gather everything in her mind.

"Who let her in here?" asked Lestrade, a bit annoyed. Donovan rushed in.

"Sorry, sir," she said. "She just walked right past us." She strode up to Shanna and Parker, making an attempt to escort them off of the scene.

"Buzz off," said Shanna simply. "Go be with that forensics expert or something. You wouldn't mind would you? I mean, after all, you have been spending a lot of time with each other haven't you? According to both of your scents, the wrinkles on both your clothes, and the shade of your lipstick." Shanna turned back to her observations.

Sally looked like she was going to burst.

"Simple deductions, really," said Sherlock, folding his arms and glaring at Shanna.

"Yes, indeed. Did you just manage to get them?" she asked him with a smirk. She looked at the Detective Inspector. "I've read the papers. Two missing people in one day? Both employed at Scotland Yard?" She shook her head with a tsk tsk. "Now look where it's led. A murder. Accident, really. This man was suppose to have been abducted. Things went wrong though, as you can clearly see."

"And I suppose you know where the weapon is, and who did it, and why?" Sherlock growled.

"Yes, no, and no," Shanna answered truthfully. "I don't know who did it or why they tried to kidnap this man, but I do know what the murder weapon is." She pointed at the corner of the table. "There. There's blood on the table. Hard to see because of the table's dark shade, but I noticed it because of skill. Skill which everyone else in this room clearly lacks."

Parker locked eyes with John and gave him an apologetic look for her flatmate's actions. John nodded understandingly and glanced at Sherlock. He'd never seen that expression on his friend's face before. His normal emotional mask had been dropped and he had a scowl on his face. He glared daggers at Shanna who merely smirked at his frustration and anger. Sherlock was clenching and unclenching his fists. Eventually he turned on his heel and walked out of the room without a word.

After a moment, John followed his friend from the crime scene. As he walked through the door, Parker grabbed his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I am so, so sorry. I really didn't mean for–"

"It's not you who should be apologizing," he said. John broke free from the girl's grip and strode off after Sherlock.

-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-

It wasn't long before Shanna and Parker were kicked off (almost literally) of the crime scene. "Congratulations," Parker said darkly, arms folded. "You managed to make enemies with the police and our neighbours within the first day of moving here…Within the same three minutes."

"Two minutes and forty-eight seconds," corrected Shanna.

Parker sighed and shook her head, looking at the ground. "Of course," she muttered. She looked back up to see Shanna walking briskly to the kerb to hail a taxi. With an annoyed groan, she followed after her friend, but missed it. Had she not made a vow to herself when she was young to never swear, she would have sworn right then. Parker was having a bad day and was frustrated. Very frustrated. Never a good combo. She just hoped not all would be lost in trying to make friends with the residents of 221B.

She hoped.

**Thank you for taking time to read! Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

3: In Which Holmes And Iterro Fight Off Ninjas

**Shmuuyaassyyy - Thank you! :) My birthday was fun! Exclamation marks! Thanks again!**

**Angielima - Er…Thanks! …I think…**

**Disclaimer: See ch. 1**

**Warnings: None**

It had been four days since Sherlock had been shown up at Corlettee's murder scene. There had been one kidnapping per day since then. Lestrade was trying to get Sherlock to help, but he insisted it was too boring. Shanna, on the other hand, had tried several times to sneak onto each crime scene. Parker barely managed to keep her under control.

It was near evening, and awfully quiet at 221. No one thought anything of the strange thing called silence. Parker opened the door to the fridge and looked around. "We're out of eggs," she announced back to the living room.

"So?" came Shanna's irritated response.

"So, I'm going to go get some more." Parker snatched her sweatshirt off of a chair and pocketed her wallet. "Don't cause any trouble 'til I'm back!" she called behind her as she walked out the door.

-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-

Parker was standing in the checkout when a voice spoke from behind her. "Parker?" she turned around and smiled.

"Hello, John."

"Hi. Um…where's Shanna?"

"At the flat. She hates shopping."

John nodded. "Right. Same with Sherlock. Um…did you leave her alone?"

Parker stopped cold in her tracks. "Oh…you're here…I'm here…Shanna's at the flat…And Sherlock's at the flat."

"And Mrs. Hudson is visiting Mrs. Turner," finished John. They looked at each other with horror in their eyes. They just hoped Baker Street wouldn't be in flames by the time they got back.

-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-

Shanna opened the door to 221B. Sherlock instantly stopped playing his violin and turned to face her. "If you weren't so rude, you'd knock," he said, setting down his instrument.

"If you weren't so rude, you'd invite me in," Shanna countered. She stepped inside of the flat and sat down in John's usual chair. She could almost hear Sherlock growling. "I'm pretty sure you don't want to be enemies with me for the rest of your life – since I suspect Parker and I will be living here for a while – so how about we make a deal." She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. "You seem to think this missing Yarders case is boring, so I'll take it. But even if it becomes more interesting, you stay out of it. Got it? Same thing vice versa. If a good case shows up and I don't take it, it's yours, no matter how interesting it gets." She stood and put out her hand. "Deal?"

Sherlock merely glared at her hand and picked up his violin, turning his back to her and beginning to play. Shanna gave an annoyed sigh. She put her hands in a surrender position. "Fine. Fine! Alright then. But if you mess with my case I'll mess with yours."

"You aren't an officer. You can't get involved in police affairs, it's against the law."

"You get involved."

"I'm a Consulting Detective. The only one in the world, I invented the job. I can get involved."

Shanna sighed again and shook her head, folding her arms. "Look, Holmes. You may have invented the job, but you're not the only one anymore. There's others out there just like you. For example: Me. You're not alone. *There's another one in America. Santa Barbara, California, I believe. He rides his hyper-observanty off as being a psychic," she said with a roll of her eyes and twirling her finger in a circle at the side of her head to indicate craziness.

Sherlock was about to object when a creak on the staircase was heard. They both turned to the door, as if trying to see through it and at the intruder. It went silent.

-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-*-/:\-

John burst through the door, quickly followed by Parker. Parker immediately rushed to 221C and John to 221B. Parker swung open the door and looked around the flat. No Shanna. She groaned and closed the door, heading to 221B.

Upon entering, Parker was greeted with a strange scene. There was a person she did not recognize, wearing mostly black clothing. His mouth was covered by duct-tape and his wrists and ankles were bound together with the same cord, making him look like a herded cattle. He was glaring daggers at Shanna and Sherlock.

"I'm sorry," John said, "but did I miss something?"

"Not much," said Sherlock. "Iterro and I were just ambushed and nearly kidnapped by this man and his three accomplices."

"His three accomplices who got away thanks to you, Holmes, might I add."

"It was your fault that the one with a drug problem warned the others."

"And it was clearly my fault that you let the door get kicked open by the one cheating on his wife I'm assuming?"

"Wait…" said Parker. "You fought all of those guys off and deduced them?"

"And restrained this one," supplied Shanna, taking a sip of tea from a cup she held in her hand.

Sherlock set down his tea and stood up. He walked over to the man and quickly ripped off the duct-tape. Parker flinched and the man yelled. "You're involved with the kidnappings and Corlettee's murder," Sherlock stated. The man glared at him. "So tell me," Sherlock said, picking up the bow to his violin, "who's your employer? There's no chance you're in charge of it. Someone who's manage to kidnap six officers is obviously not daft enough to do the work themselves."

The man continued to glare. "I'm just in it for the money," the man said. "I don't even know who my employer is."

"Really?" asked Shanna. "Well in that case, how much money were you offered?" The man didn't say anything. He merely grumbled and wriggled in his bonds. "No answer? Well, that's not a problem," Shanna said. "We'll just call Inspector Lestrade, shall we?" She snatched Sherlock's phone and tossed it do him. He caught it with ease and hit his speed dial.

Parker blinked. "So…" she said, "…does this mean you two aren't at each other's throats anymore?"

"Hm? Oh," said Shanna, picking up her tea tray and cup. "No, we still pretty much hate each other." She dropped it off in the sink and walked over to the door. She turned back to Sherlock. "I think you have this handled." She looked to Parker and jerked her head to the stairway. "Come along, Viehof." Parker quickly gave John a half smile before following her flatmate down the stairs to 221C.

**Thank you for reading!**

***Virtual cookie if you can guess what reference that is! :D**

**Please review! Thanks in advance :)**


End file.
